It's Just You
by shippershape
Summary: The world comes back all at once. The pain is excruciating and he can't help but be struck by the irony that it hurts much less to die than to come back. Or, the one in which Cameron comes back and Kirsten need to tell him something. Post 1x10. One-shot.


The world comes back all at once. The pain is excruciating and he can't help but be struck by the irony that it hurts much less to die than to come back. Lights are flashing and his chest feels like it belongs somewhere entirely outside his body and it hurts to breath and to blink and-

"Cameron?" It's her. He knows it is because the pain eases a little and the fingers on his face are-well, he knows. She's gentle in a way he wouldn't have expected. He forces his eyes to stay open long enough to take her face in. He's startled to see her eyes like this, wide, almost entirely black. Her fingers are soft on his face, but he can feel them trembling.

"Hey, Stretch." He mumbles. The words seem to take all the air from his lungs, and he chokes a little trying to catch his breath afterwards, but the look on her face is worth it. She doesn't do vulnerable. He knows that. But her lips twist into the most painful smile he's ever seen and her eyes fill, and he's not sure she's ever cried about anything not involving a stitch.

"That was-"

Brave. Selfless. Kind. He anticipates a compliment. He's wrong.

"-very stupid." There is a mixture of anger and relief and something else he can't quite identify in her voice. If that's meant to hurt him, it doesn't. He tries to shrug, then winces. Kirsten's hand comes immediately down on his shoulder, as though she could fix it on contact alone. The pain stays, but it's nice anyways.

"I had to-"

"Protect me." She finishes his sentence, and the softness is gone from her face. He recognizes this Kirsten, cold stone. He misses the warmth of her smile, but she's beautiful like this too. The ice queen. It's a front. "Cameron, you shouldn't have done that." Her tone is clipped, like she's lecturing an unruly toddler, and he doesn't quite understand what he's done.

"Kirsten-"

"I'm glad you're okay." She cuts him off again. That's beginning to annoy him. "I have to change." She's still wearing the catsuit, he realizes. He doesn't even have time to reply before she turns abruptly on her heel and disappears out of his line of sight. It isn't until she's gone that the rest of the room comes into focus, the beeping and flashing, and all of the people he couldn't see while she was there.

"Bro!" Linus comes bounding into view beside him. Ayo pushes him out of the way irritably. She smothers Cameron, checking vitals and poking at him until he can't take it anymore.

"I'm fine." He tries to swat her away and stand up, but she pushes him firmly back down.

"You just died. You might be with us, but you're not fine. And you're not going anywhere." The woman frowns, stern. He sighs. Camille's face appears beside Linus.

"I'm glad you're okay." She says softly. "I've still got a lot to learn." He's touched, actually, at that. Her face changes when his eyes drift away from hers. She smiles knowingly. "I'll go talk to Kirsten." She disappears too. He wants to be the one to find Kirsten, to make her understand why he had to do this, but Ayo is eyeing him warily and he knows he won't be able to get past her. Still, he sits up, swinging his legs over the side of the table. It's eerie, knowing the table is actually the corpse cassette, and that's exactly what he was seconds before. A corpse. Just as the thought crosses his mind the room begins to spin, technicolour as it whirls around him. All he can hear, as the colours fade to black, is Kirsten's voice in his ear, broken in an entirely unfamiliar way.

 _I didn't know!_

He wakes up later, entirely unaware of what time, or day, it is. It's a little sobering to realize this is how Kirsten feels, always. She's there, he realizes, taking in the blonde bundle of jackets in the corner of the room. A quick glance around tells him he's been moved to the med bay, and the lack of lights and background noise suggest it's late enough that everyone else has gone home. He's still shirtless, but the jeans he was wearing earlier are gone, replaced by a pair of grey sweatpants.

"Stretch?" He asks. His throat is rough, mouth bone dry, and the words come out as a croak. She stirs anyways, leaping to her feet when she realizes he's awake. She thrusts a glass of water at him, and he sips at it gratefully. Her hand comes down on his forehead, and he revels in that contact.

"Cameron? How are you feeling?"

He's about to say that she probably knows exactly how he's feeling, but then he's distracted by something in her eyes. Something….different. He can't put his finger on it.

"Like I died." He jokes. She doesn't smile. Something remarkably resembling pain crosses her face. But that can't be right. He clears his throat. "How long have I been out?" He asks. Her eyes narrow.

"Five minutes, forty-three seconds the first time." The number sounds rehearsed, like it's been running over and over and over in her head. Like a death march. He winces internally at that. It's clear he's done some damage here. He underestimated the emotional cost this would have on her. Guilt, whether or not she could recognize it for what it was, was a powerful emotion. He hadn't meant for that.

"I-"

"And after that, two days. It's Tuesday. It's…." She checked her watch. "eleven eighteen on Tuesday." Not that she'd have felt that, he thinks.

"Good thing you don't feel time." He jokes, again. Her face changes again, and this time she looks almost frightened, but Ayo comes in before she can respond.

"Hey boss." The friendly ex-marine doctor smiles at him. He smiles back.

"Ayo. I guess I should thank you for saving my life." His voice is sheepish, because what he did is starting to feel less heroic and a little more foolish, and he suddenly remembers exactly why he did it in the first place. He turns to Kirsten.

"Did you get it? The license plate?" She hesitates before shaking her head.

"There was too much resistance from your brain, I couldn't make it out." She looks sad. Cameron isn't used to seeing this many emotions on her. He's beginning to feel like she isn't telling him something.

"So it was-"

"It wasn't all for nothing." Kirsten interrupts him, because she knows exactly what he's thinking. He doesn't see how he can agree with her. He died, put her, and everyone, through all this, and they didn't even get what they were looking for. She speaks again. "Cameron-"

"I think Cameron needs his rest." Ayo says, shooting Kirsten a look. He lets out a noise of disgust.

"It sounds like I just had two days of nothing but rest. You can't actually expect me to stay in bed for another day." He says, incredulous. Ayo sighs.

"Look. For someone with a perfect heart, this would have been risky, and traumatic. Considering your condition, it's a miracle you're alive. You could have fried the arteries connecting that mechanical valve to your heart, not to mention the damage to your brain and other organs due to oxygen deprivation. Your body needs time to recover."

"But-"

"Stay. In. Bed." She commands. Her dark eyes sweep Kirsten, who's still hovering beside his bed. "Can I trust you to make sure he stays put?" She asks. Kirsten nods. "Alright. I'll be back to check on you in the morning. If you need anything, there's a direct line to my cellphone in the office." Ayo gives Cameron a last stern glance before exiting the room. It seems vastly larger once she's gone. Kirsten isn't far, physically, but her mind is somewhere else, he can tell.

"Okay." He sighs. "Are we going to talk about it?" He expected her to be angry, but this is something else. She blinks at him. It's almost as if she doesn't care. He remembers her hands on his face when he first woke up, the fear in her eyes. He can't make sense of this. He supposes she's had two days to process everything, and for her that's an eternity. Maybe she's simply over it.

"No." She says, simply. He stares at her in shock.

"Wh-No?"

"No. We're not going to talk about it." She tells him, her voice neutral as she sits back down in the chair beside his bed.

"Um. Okay." He tries to digest that, almost wishes he could process information, emotion like she can. "I thought you would be upset."

"Why?" Her face remains impassive, a stark contrast to the emotionality he saw earlier. His head begins to hurt.

"Because, I don't know. I thought…" _I thought you'd be worried_ , he thinks. Clearly he was wrong. "Uh, nevermind. You don't have to stay, you know. I won't get out of bed. I promise." _And it's uncomfortable having you here, like this, this unknowable version of you_. Finally, her face breaks out of the mask of indifference.

"You want me to leave?" Hurt. He doesn't understand this.

"Do you not _want_ to leave? Why are you even here?" His voice comes across harsher than intended, but normally, Kirsten wouldn't be affected by that anyways. Her lips twist into something thin and sharp. Cameron wants to apologize, but he doesn't _understand_ , he can't read her, he isn't even sure this is the Kirsten he knew before. And then she sighs. Her expression changes, something familiar mixed with a raw emotion entirely alien on her face.

"I wanted to be with you." She says, slowly. "when you woke up. The minutes you were dead… seemed like days. The seconds when they were trying to bring you back…" She struggles for the words. He isn't used to seeing her struggle, not because of emotion. "Cameron it felt like you'd been dead longer than I'd known you. But also like my whole life existed in those few seconds. It's hard to explain." She scrubbed exhaustedly at her face. For the first time, Cameron noticed the dark circles under her eyes.

"But you can't-"

"Feel time?" She stares at him. There is something here, in this moment, something important. He can feel it. Anxiety creeps in as her gaze never wavers. She pulls her chair in closer to his bed, and to his surprise, takes his hand. "Cameron, stitching into you…it changed me." His eyes widen in shock.

"What do you mean? Like, residual emotion?" It suddenly occurs to him everything she might have seen when she was inside his head. The words from earlier, in her voice, echo in his head. _I didn't know_. Had she said that to him? What had she seen?

"No. More like-Do you remember when we watched that video Ed left for me? And we found out that I wasn't born with Temporal Dysplasia?" She asks. He nods. He won't ever forget that, watching the childhood version of Kirsten be strapped into the crude harness, being so close to her mother's death, losing a part of herself. He isn't sure there are even words for something like that.

"You got it when you were stitched into your mother, when she was-" He stops, stares at her. "When she was still alive."

"Stitching into you, it touched a part of my brain that hasn't been active in years. Cameron, ask me how long it's been since Ayo left."

He can't believe this. Doesn't. But he asks.

"How long has it been, Kirsten?"

"Around five minutes." She says, without looking at her watch. He glances at the wall clock behind her. She's right.

"Are you-are you saying that it's gone?" This isn't real. The brain doesn't work like that. He's studied enough of them to know that.

"No." She shakes her head, and he's confused again. "Not gone. Just different."

He sighs.

"I don't understand."

"Something went…wrong when I stitched into you. I saw me." Her voice is suddenly much softer. That echo plays again in his head. _I'm everywhere. I didn't know._ He suddenly knows what it means.

"Kirsten-"

"It's not that I don't want to talk about it, I just-I don't know if I can." Her hand is still in his, and he squeezes it, and suddenly she's kicking off her shoes and crawling into bed with him. His surprise doesn't keep him from sliding over to make room. She pulls right up against him and rests her head on his chest. It takes him a couple seconds to realize she's listening to his heartbeat.

"I'm sorry." He says, into her hair.

"I can feel you." She whispers. "What I felt-what _you_ felt, it's like I couldn't let go of you. I saw myself, through your eyes and I was glowing, and you never told me." He wants to apologize again, but she isn't finished. "I could feel the love, and the hurt and the jealousy. I could feel time. I felt you missing me. I knew what long minutes felt like, and short ones, and how the minutes with me felt different. I felt everything. And then I bounced, and I was looking at you, and I still felt it. The seconds were _long_ , they were impossible, it felt like time stopped. And I-I've never felt time stop before."

Cameron stared at the top of her head. She was tense in his arms, but her fingers tracing patterns on his chest were gentle, almost lazy.

"But how could you feel time stop, if you can't feel it at all?" He wonders aloud.

"Because I can feel it, Cameron. I can feel it with you." Her word are so delicate, like she's afraid just by voicing it out loud it will cease to be true.

"Wh-Time? You can feel time?"

"I can feel everything." She murmurs. He's stunned. He could never have imagined this, not in any calculation, or probability, or wild fantasy would he have imagined this to be possible. Stitching couldn't cure temporal dysplasia. But then he remembers what she said earlier.

"But-you said it wasn't gone. If you can feel time…" His hand, where it was moving back and forth across her back, stills.

"I can only feel time in relation to you." She says. He can't breathe. "I know that it's only been a few minutes that we've been laying here. I know that when you stopped breathing yesterday it took about half that time to stabilize you. I know that when Ayo forced me to go home and shower and change my clothes it seemed like it took hours but it was actually only forty-five minutes. I know that I've been talking for about a minute, because it's been about that long since you've spoken." She takes a deep breath. "If I try to contextualize time in any other way… it doesn't make sense to me. I don't really understand it, and I don't know why. It's just…you."

Silence follows. He wants to speak, but can't seem to find the words. Any words.

"Cameron?" Kirsten finally asks. She sounds nervous, and her fingers have stopped moving on his chest.

"I'm here, Princess. It's just a lot to take in." Her fingers resume their patterns.

"What you felt, I feel the same way. I didn't know before." She says. It's almost matter of fact. His heart leaps a little, but he tries to temper that feeling.

"Are you sure," He asks, very, very carefully. "-that it's not just residual emotion? My emotion?" He isn't sure he could take it if she said something like that and then took it back a few days later. This could be temporary, this could all fall apart. She shakes her head against his chest.

"This is different." She says.

"How?"

"These feelings aren't new. I just have a new context for them." She snuggles in closer to him. Cameron's arms tighten around her automatically, but he's still not convinced.

"What are you saying, Stretch?" He asks gently.

"I'm saying I love you, Cameron Goodkin." It's strange how something he wants so badly can hurt him. It's his turn to struggle for words. He must be silent for too long, forgetting that she knows now, can feel the seconds tick by waiting for his response. "You don't believe me." It's not an accusation. Kirsten, always so loose with those, is being careful with him.

"It's…hard to believe." He says. Doesn't really know how to explain that. "Have you ever wanted something? Wanted it so badly that you couldn't stop thinking about it, dreamed about it, wished for it?"

"Sure." She says. When she doesn't elaborate, he wonders what she's thinking of.

"Okay. Well imagine…imagine one day waking up and finding it in your bed. Like it's yours, like it will always be there."

"Alright." Her lips move against his chest as she speaks, and it's very distracting.

"Wouldn't you be just a little suspicious? Wouldn't it seem strange to suddenly have something you thought you could never have?"

Kirsten props herself up on her elbows, eyes aligned with his.

"I didn't think that I would ever know what it was like to feel a second. Or a minute. Or an hour. People would complain about waiting for things, like a long line, or a pizza, and all I could think was 'I wish I knew what that was like'. And it's not because I wanted to have to wait, or know what it was like to be annoyed when someone was late, or because I hated being different. It's because I wanted time to mean something to me. Do you know what makes life precious, Cameron?"

He just blinks.

"That it's finite. That it's short. That's what makes living meaningful. And I don't experience that. Every day is just a day. It ends when the sun goes down, and a new one starts when I wake up and it doesn't make me feel relief, or excitement or hope. I just feel tired, or not tired. Or hungry. Or thirsty. I couldn't cherish a day, or a moment, because it's simultaneously distant and recent. I never missed anyone. But I missed you, when I was gone, and when you were sleeping. I can feel that seconds are passing." She places her hand on his chest. "Heartbeats are passing. We only get a limited number, and that never really meant anything to me, but now…it's terrifying. Because the time we have _together_ is finite. And it's also incredible. I wanted to feel that, Cameron. And now I do. So, yes. I know what it's like to want something you can't have, and then suddenly have to come to terms with what it means to have it. And you gave it to me."

The silence in the room becomes a ringing in his ears and Cameron is just staring at her because not only is Kirsten saying she loves him she's also saying he's some sort of anchor tying her to the world's timeline. He doesn't know how to respond to that. It should feel like a burden, probably. Like a lot of responsibility. But all he feels is awe.

"But what if…" He murmurs slowly, because he doesn't want to say this, doesn't really want to further question that he might be getting everything he wanted. "-what if that's why you think you love me? Because you feel like I'm important, like I give you time? What if it has nothing to do with me?"

She frowns. What was patience turns to irritation.

"I don't love you because I can feel time with you. I think it's _because_ of my feelings for you that this is possible. I think that's the whole point." She looks so exasperated that for a moment he thinks he's gone too far, that he really has driven her away, but instead of moving away she moves in. Her lips are on his before he can register what's happening.

Her fingers curl in his hair, and mumbles something against his mouth, something like _I always wanted to do that_ and he drags her into his lap, his own fingers tangling in the hair at the back of her neck. He's responding, just reacting, and then she moans and months of lust and secret wanting pool heat in his stomach and he kisses her back with a ferocity that's new even to him. His hand drifts down to grip her hip and he rolls her so he's pinning her against the bed, and it's all going very well until she pushes gently against his chest. He releases her immediately, transferring his weight so he's propping himself up above her.

"Wait." She's looking at him with fear in her eyes, and this is what he was afraid of, the thing that he knew would happen. It wasn't real, not for her. He tries to hide the pain with a smile, though he imagines even Kirsten can see through it.

"No worries, Stretch." He says, feigning casual. "We got carried away. It's fine." They're both breathing heavily, and it's not fine, he feels like his heart is breaking, and it's worse, so much worse than the first time. Back then there were doctors and surgeries and hospital beds. But this hurts in a way that suggests he will not so easily be stitched back together. He begins to roll away from her, but her hand snakes out and stops him.

"No, Cameron. It's not that." She smiles at him, fingers once again grazing his hair. "I just don't want to move too fast, your heart….I just don't want to take any chances." She says softly. She's worried about him. He's an idiot. He lays back down beside her, pulling her against his chest. She seems to like it there, pressing her ear to his skin. He sighs.

"My heart's okay." He assures her. Then he smiles. "It's great, actually." She looks up at him and frowns.

"It's beating pretty fast." She accuses. He blushes.

"Yeah, well, that's what happens when you get a man excited Princess. Didn't really think I'd have to explain the birds and the bees to you, but-"

She smacks him. He beams. They lay there like that for a few minutes in silence. He's very aware of the fact that she can feel it, just like he can. He marvels at it a little.

"We can go as slow as you want, Cupcake. But my heart's okay. You never treated me like I was breakable before. It's actually one of the things I love about you." It feels strange to be able to say that out loud, after all the secrecy, after all this time. He loves her.

"I never had to watch you die before." She murmurs quietly. He can't imagine it, can't imagine what he would have done if their positions were reversed. He's sorry for putting her through that. But he thinks she knows that, too.

"I'm here." He tells her. She lets out a little gasp, clutching him tightly and he wonders if she's remembering.

"You can't do that ever again. You asked me to trust you. So promise me you won't ever leave me again."

Cameron's not sure that's a promise anyone can ever really keep, but it doesn't matter.

"I promise." He says. He has every intention of keeping that promise. Kirsten smiles, and this one is perfect, it lights up the room and draws him in like a magnet. His lips are on hers, and he can feel the smile still on them as he kisses her.

"You're supposed to be resting." She protests.

"I'm supposed to be in bed." He mumbles, between pressing kisses to her neck. A very intriguing flush appears there, trailing down and disappearing under the collar of her shirt. "And I do believe I am."

She giggles, and it's baffling but also adorable and turns him on even more than the noises she was making a second ago.

"I love you too, Stretch. Just in case that needed saying." He says, taking a short break from trailing his lips down her clavicle. She sighs happily. He grins devilishly, then slips his hand beneath the waistband of her jeans. Half an hour later, Ayo comes sprinting into the room, yelling about the heart monitor, only to take one look at her patient, and the blonde currently straddling him, and make a hasty exit and a stammering apology. She doesn't look either of them in the eye for weeks. They're both a little too distracted to notice.


End file.
